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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25243030">Tuesday's at Esthers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/usa123/pseuds/usa123'>usa123</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Imposter [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky's therapist is Sean Maguire from Good Will Hunting, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Newsies References, Team as Family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:26:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,856</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25243030</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/usa123/pseuds/usa123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in "The Imposter" universe. How Esther, the owner of the deli, came to adopt the Avengers.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Imposter [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A/N: Super shout-out to buckywiththegoodhair86 who beta'd this fic for me, and provided the title. (Up until a few days ago, it was thrillingly titled, Oma.) This story would not be in its current state without her help and support.</p><p>A/N 2: This fic refers to the events of Chapter Twenty of <i>The Imposter</i>. It's not required to read that first, but some of the details might make more sense if you do.</p><p>Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"<em>You need to start getting out."</em></p><p>"<em>Out where?"</em></p><p>"<em>Anywhere. Coffee shop, restaurant, taco cart. Somewhere new, and somewhere without Steve."</em></p><p>"<em>I'm not ready."</em></p><p>"<em>You'll never know until you try."</em></p><p>Bucky Barnes stood outside a small hole-in-the-wall deli in Brooklyn, while those instructions from his therapist, Sean Maguire, rang in his head.</p><p>"<em>Just one place, one day this week. You don't even have to socialize outside of placing your order."</em></p><p>Bucky had driven by this place many times on his way to and from Maguire's office, so it seemed like the most natural place to stop for his first attempt at non-Avengers socialization.</p><p>And yet, his body was reacting like this was a mission. Every muscle was tense, his stomach was clenching and unclenching in time with his pulse, and his heart was pounding painfully against his ribs.</p><p>All he had to do was go in and place an order. It was a sandwich shop. How many options could they have? It wasn't going to be like that diner he'd gone to with Sam that had had at least ten pages of menu items, and Bucky had been so overwhelmed by all the choices that Sam had had to help him order.</p><p>He could do this: walk in and place an order.</p><p>Before he changed his mind, Bucky pulled in a steeling breath then stepped into the deli.</p><hr/><p>Esther Meier had lived in Brooklyn for a long time. She was born in an area of Germany that was now technically Romania in 1931, and had immigrated to the United States during the war. It was different, back then, immigrating. Her family had had to wait eight years for a family to sponsor them and pay for their passage to the States. In South Carolina, she had met her future husband, Frank Aarons, and when the rest of her family had saved enough to move to Chicago where a massive German population resided, Esther had gotten married and moved with Frank to Brooklyn, where he'd started a deli with their last pennies. Thankfully, it had prospered.</p><p>Brooklyn was where she'd borne children, and seen her daughters bring her grandchildren of their own into the world. Esther's children, though they didn't end up going into the restaurant business, had all worked in the deli while they were growing up, which had transformed it into more than just a place of work for her and Frank. Now, she was fortunate enough to have her grandchildren working there (taking orders at the counter, sweeping or bussing tables) during the summers and breaks to pay for their newfangled tech gadgets.</p><p>Frank's health wasn't what it used to be, and he'd been unhappily relegated to supply ordering and bookkeeping, while Esther continued to run the front counter six days of the week. Which was how she ended up working the Tuesday a long-haired man wearing a jacket and gloves, despite the warm summer temperatures, was standing outside the door to their deli.</p><p>At first, she thought he might be practicing a sales pitch, given the conflicted looks that kept crossing his face, but then, from the agitated way he kept exhaling, like he was resetting himself, she discarded that idea, and waited for him to either decide to come in, or move along. She was in the midst of restacking menus, when the man lifted his head, set his features, and marched into the deli. Given the mid-afternoon hour, the deli was in its standard lull, which was only punctuated by those who had skipped lunch. Today, there were only two other patrons sitting on the far side of the dining area, meaning the man could make an unobstructed beeline for the counter. Once there, he pulled a menu from the clear plastic holder and began hastily scanning its options.</p><p>"Good afternoon," Esther said, unwillingly intrigued. Over the years, she'd seen all sorts in the deli, but the man in front of her was the first to be exhibiting behavior like this. It was almost like he didn't want to be here, but was without another option.</p><p>The man nodded, almost absently, but didn't look up from the menu.</p><p>"Pastrami please," he then said, his voice thick and almost choked.</p><p>"Sure thing, honey. What type of bread?"</p><p>The man's eyes opened slightly wider, but the look was gone a split second later. Had Esther not been looking right at him when it happened, she would have missed it.</p><p>"We have rye, sourdough, nine gr—"</p><p>"Any."</p><p>"I recommend the sourdough," Esther continued, kindly, now wondering if this man had some sort of diagnosis. For the record, that didn't bother her; she treated everyone who walked into her deli with the same kindness until they proved they weren't deserving of it. She only wanted to make him more comfortable, since he looked about a loud noise away from bolting.</p><p>"Fine."</p><p>"Chips okay for a side?" There were other options for sides of course, but Esther suspected if she listed them, they'd be repeating their previous conversation. She might be a little biased but their house-made chips were very good, and they were portable, which was a huge benefit since the man didn't look like he was eating here.</p><p>The man nodded, quickly and jerkily, and held out his credit card, which Esther quickly ran through the machine. As she always did, she looked at the name as she handed the card back, and said, "Nice to meet you, James. I'm Esther."</p><p>This time, in addition to his eyes widening and his expression freezing, the man's breath caught audibly in his throat. Esther had seen that expression many times before, and recognized the panic for what it was.</p><p>"It's on your card," she said quickly, pointing to where the last few letters of his name were visible outside his grip.</p><p>The man did his quick aborted nod again, but didn't so much relax as look marginally less tense. After a beat, he said, "Of course."</p><p>"Your sandwich should be out shortly. Pick any seat, or wait outside." She didn't bother asking him if he wanted to eat it here. They'd pack it to-go and if he decided to sit down, that was fine with her.</p><p>The man looked around the deli, and seemed so lost that Esther reached over the counter, pushed the menu holder out of the way of the closest barstool, then motioned for him to sit. The man perched on the very outer edge of the stool, coiled as if ready to strike, and all but sprinted from the shop the minute Esther handed over his meal.</p><p>The minute he was out of the room, her grandson Eli, who had been sweeping the front of the house, raced over to her. "Do you know who that was, Oma?!" he practically shouted, causing the two other diners to look over at him as well.</p><p>There was such astonishment in Eli's voice that Esther ran through her (admittedly small) catalogue of movie stars before shaking her head.</p><p>"That was the Winter Soldier!"</p><p>The pieces started to click as Esther remembered the news articles after the Fall of the Triskelion, and the statement given by none other than Steve Rogers saying the Winter Soldier was his childhood friend Bucky Barnes, who had been brainwashed by Hydra, and would be staying at Avengers Tower for the duration of his recovery. It explained everything about the man's behavior. "We're not going to call him that in this shop," she stated, placing her hands on Eli's shoulders and spinning him around. "Now get back to work."</p><hr/><p>"How did it go?" Sean Maguire asked in their next session.</p><p>"I did it," Bucky reported, feeling one corner of his mouth lift slightly with his success. He'd been nervous and on edge, but Esther had been nothing but kind to him as she helped him through his order.</p><p>Sean smiled as he made notes in a file. "That's great, Bucky. How did you feel?"</p><p>"Uncomfortable." Then, after a pause, he elaborated, "I found all the exits and had at least three ways to take out each person in the shop before I made it to the counter. It felt like everyone was looking at me, like they knew who I was."</p><p>"Did they?"</p><p>Bucky shrugged. "If they did, they didn't act on it. Esther, who took my order, didn't seem to. But she could definitely tell that something wasn't right."</p><p>Sean nodded thoughtfully then put down his pen. "Your instincts aren't going to go away—and I suspect you might prefer they don't—but what you did was a huge step for you. You got out of your comfort zone, and did something all on your own." He paused, then asked, "How was the food?"</p><p>"Amazing." He'd waited until he'd gotten back to the safety of the Tower to eat it, so the pastrami had been cold instead of warm, but it hadn't mattered. Once the taste and flavor of the meat had hit his tongue, he'd wolfed the whole thing down in under a minute. He wasn't sure he liked the sour pickle that had been included, but the chips were salty and amazing and had disappeared very quickly as well.</p><p>"Would you go back?"</p><p>Bucky nodded.</p><p>"So, maybe this week, you should go again and find one thing to say to Esther in conversation."</p><p>Bucky must have looked uncertain for Sean continued, "Just one thing. 'How's business?' 'How are you doing today?' Just one question. Just one more step."</p><p>One more step. He could do that.</p><p>"I'll try."</p><hr/><p>"He's back!" Eli shouted from his spot at the front window, waving quickly for Esther to come see. Based on his level of excitement, there wasn't any mystery about who "he" was.</p><p>"And he'll leave if he sees you acting like that," Esther replied. "Go back to sweeping, Bursche."</p><p>"Yes, Oma," Eli said somewhat dejectedly, as he continued to push the broom across the floor. Esther then arranged herself behind the counter and tried again to look busy as James Barnes entered. He didn't wait outside to psych himself up this time, but he definitely walked somewhat hesitantly into the deli.</p><p>"Hello again," Esther said warmly.</p><p>"Hi." After a pause, he added, "Esther."</p><p>"Pastrami again? Or are we branching out?"</p><p>"Pastrami." He had only barely reached the counter at this point, and was once again visibly uncomfortable.</p><p>"Sure thing." Esther rang him up and he handed over his credit card. He then stood there, awkwardly, while the kitchen prepared his food.</p><p>When they were finished and Esther was grabbing some napkins and a fork for the to-go bag, James spoke up, "How's business?"</p><p>The words raced out of his mouth so quickly Esther almost didn't understand him. "It's good, Jimmy," she replied, once her brain had caught up. "Thank you for asking."</p><p>At the nickname, James froze again, eyes wide and panicked, forcing Esther to backtrack. "James, sorry. You just don't look much like a James to me."</p><p>James-not-Jimmy shook his head. "Jimmy is fine," he ground out with effort. Then he snatched the bag out of Esther's hand and hurried out of the deli. At the door, he nearly crashed into Frank, who was slowly hobbling in.</p><p>"Was that who I thought it was?" he gaped as he entered.</p><p>Esther shuffled out from behind the counter and met her husband halfway across the room. "What are you doing here, Frank?"</p><p>"I came to see how the shop is doing. Don't deflect. Was that The Winter Soldier?"</p><p>"His name is James Barnes, and yes."</p><p>"Has he been in here before?"</p><p>"Once."</p><p>Frank looked over at Esther, and from his expression, she knew she wasn't going to like what he said next.</p><p>"I don't want you working here when he shows up. He's dangerous."</p><p>"He absolutely is not," Esther countered, pulling her hand out of Frank's grip. "He's nervous and keeps to himself when he's in here."</p><p>"You've seen what he's done! I don't want you to be next."</p><p>Esther's expression hardened. "I won't be." Then she stormed off as best as her arthritic hips would allow to back behind the counter.</p><p>"Esther, wait," Frank said, hobbling to catch up with her.</p><p>Ignoring him, she busied herself finishing wiping down menus.</p><p>"Fine," Frank snapped before heading to the office to do whatever work he'd shown up to do.</p><hr/><p>"Are we going to talk about this?" Frank asked, later that night, as he climbed into bed beside Esther. They hadn't said a word to each other from the time she'd gotten home until now. She was currently lying in bed facing away from him.</p><p>"Only if you change your mind."</p><p>Frank was quiet for so long that Esther thought that was the end of the conversation. "I'm just worried about you," he finally said, running a frail and bony hand along her spine.</p><p>His words tugged on Esther's heartstrings so painfully, she had to roll over to face him. "He deserves a second chance after everything he's been through," she stated.</p><p>"I know he does."</p><p>"Then why are we arguing?"</p><p>"Because I only get one of you," Frank replied, looking at her with a lifetime of emotion in his eyes.</p><p>Esther snorted, but reached out and rested a hand on the side of his face. "I'll be fine, Frank."</p><p>Frank didn't look convinced, but he nodded. "What does the Winter Soldier order anyway?"</p><p>"<em>James Barnes</em> orders pastrami. On sourdough. With chips."</p><p>She could immediately see the scheming in Frank's eyes and swatted his shoulder. "We will not be publicizing this. At all."</p><p>"I'm just sayin', we could be open to the–"</p><p>"<em>No</em>."</p><p>"Fine." Frank crossed his arms over his chest and scowled up at the ceiling. "I love you, mein Schatz," he said, as he did every night before falling asleep.</p><p>Esther leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "I love you, mein Süßer."</p><hr/><p>"She called me Jimmy," Bucky reported to Sean over a video call two days later. "Said I didn't look like a James."</p><p>"And what did you say?"</p><p>"I panicked. Said Jimmy was fine."</p><p>Bucky looked up hesitantly, but all he saw was understanding on Sean's features. "As long as you're okay with it, that's fine. But maybe one day you'll want to tell her what you prefer to be called."</p><p>Bucky nodded. "I don't think I mind it, though."</p><p>"So again, that's fine, as long as you don't mind it. But if that changes, we can work through how you might bring it up." He waited for Bucky to nod, then asked, "So what else did you discuss?"</p><hr/><p>The next time Esther saw Jimmy, he walked straight in to the deli. It was only when he saw that there was a line that he balked; there had been some convention at a hotel not far away and its attendees had flocked here during their break, which was during the deli's normal lull. Normally, Esther was very strict about her line policy, but knowing who Jimmy was, she could understand why he looked about a half second away from leaving.</p><p>"Jimmy!" she called and motioned for him to step toward the counter.</p><p>The rest of the restaurant's patrons spun around to look at him, and Jimmy very visibly tensed.</p><p>"Be nice," Esther reprimanded the line, still waving for Jimmy to come closer. "I'll get your pastrami going. And I'll throw in a free cookie and drink for everyone who waits just a few minutes longer."</p><p>The mutiny subsided and the eight in line stepped aside, leaving Jimmy an unobstructed walk to the counter.</p><p>"I don't need special treatment," he said softly, as he handed over his card. It wasn't said unkindly, just a statement of fact.</p><p>"We all need a little help sometimes," Esther replied, as she passed the card back. "Now, if you wanted to wait over there," she pointed toward an empty table a few feet from the counter, "that'd be fine too."</p><p>Jimmy nodded and took an uneasy seat, perched again on the edge of the chair, looking battle-ready at any second.</p><p>"Thank you," he said, moments later, as he took the paper bag from Esther. It wouldn't be until later that he'd find the latke she slipped in, free of charge.</p><p>"You are most welcome, Jimmy."</p><hr/><p>And so became the pattern that every Tuesday, Jimmy stopped by the deli. It took a few weeks for Esther to realize it was around the same time: 2:10 PM. Given that that was not a standard eating time for most and factoring in the deli's distance from Avengers Tower, it was presumably an appointment or something scheduled that drew him here week after week.</p><p>As the weeks passed, Jimmy didn't exactly look comfortable in the deli, but he looked less and less skittish. He still shied away from waiting in line, but if Esther wasn't busy, he could hold a fairly decent conversation. It also helped when she realized he liked his hands being busy, and started offering that he wipe down the menus or roll silverware while he waited (for which she always threw in a free dessert), which seemed to set him more at ease. It was only when she saw him shed his right glove in order to dunk the rag for wiping the menus into the cleaning solution that she remembered his metal left arm, which remained hidden beneath the long sleeve and matching glove. She almost offered something else for him to do, so he could keep both gloves on, but he didn't seem the least bit bothered by the discrepancy, so she let the suggestion drop.</p><p>It was about his eighth or ninth visit when Esther realized Jimmy was also woefully behind on his pop culture. On that particular day, Esther was doing the ordering in back since Frank wasn't having a good day, and had left Eli to work the counter. Once she'd heard Jimmy ordering his typical pastrami, she made her way to the dining room just in time to hear Eli sing back, "On rye with a sour pickle?"</p><p>Still in the hallway, Esther waited to see how Jimmy would react. "Sure?" he eventually replied, with a confused shrug.</p><p>This would not stand, especially for someone who was born and raised in Brooklyn.</p><p>"Jimmy Barnes, you mean to tell me you haven't seen <em>Newsies</em>?"</p><p>His head swiveled to look over at Esther. "No?"</p><p>"A Broadway musical about the Newboys' Strike of 1899? Jeremy Jordan, Ben Fankhauser, Kara Lindsay?" Esther continued, hoping that the description or the actors would jar a memory.</p><p>Jimmy shook his head.</p><p>Esther walked over the counter and looked down at Eli. "Do you think you can get Jimmy a copy?" To Jimmy, she explained, "Eli's a computer genius. I don't understand half of what he does, but when I want to watch something, he can always find it."</p><p>"Sure, Oma," Eli said with a grin. "I'll have it for you next week," he said to Jimmy as the bell to the kitchen dinged, indicating Jimmy's food was ready.</p><p>Sure enough, the next week Eli handed over a flash drive, explained how to use it (Jimmy seemed to know, but he allowed the lesson anyway), and that was that. Esther wasn't intending to press the matter, but then she heard Jimmy humming "Once and For All" the next time he placed an order.</p><p>"So, did you like it?" she asked as she accepted his credit card.</p><p>Jimmy nodded. "A lot, actually. St—my friend—really did too."</p><p>"I'm glad," Esther said with a smile. And when she hummed the refrain of "Brooklyn's Here" the next time he walked into the shop, just loud enough for Jimmy to hear, she was rewarded with a rare smile of his own.</p><p>By that point, Esther suspected Jimmy knew that she knew who he was, but they never formally discussed it. She wasn't sure how to let him know that she knew, and as the weeks wore on, she found herself unwilling to broach the topic, in case the fact that she knew his true identity would cause Jimmy to go elsewhere. So Esther resigned herself to waiting for him to bring it up at his own leisure.</p><p>They passed his waits with small talk about the deli, Esther's family, and eventually, what he was doing in Brooklyn every Tuesday.</p><p>"Therapy," he replied, dunking the rag into the bucket with his flesh hand and setting about wiping the menus.</p><p>"Is it helping?"</p><p>Jimmy nodded. "It's actually why I'm here. Trying new things. Getting out in the world."</p><p>He looked like he wanted to say more, but he left it at that for the day. And that was fine with Esther. He was supposed to feel comfortable in this place, not interrogated. But she was honored that he was opening up to her.</p><p>The next week, Jimmy showed up on Tuesday, two hours before his usual time, looking slightly frazzled around the edges.</p><p>"Jimmy? What's wrong?" Esther asked, immediately hobbling around the counter.</p><p>"I need to talk to you," he said. "In private."</p><p>Esther waved for Caleb, one of the busboys, to take over the counter and led Jimmy to the back of the house.</p><p>"What is it?" she asked once they were in the office and he'd closed the door behind them. "Are you okay?"</p><p>"I'm fine," he was quick to say. And physically, he looked it. There was no blood or bruises on his face and his cheeks had filled out slightly since he'd first walked in. If it wasn't for the tense set of his features and the furrow of his brow, Esther would have thought it was just another Tuesday. "But I need to tell you something," Jimmy continued nervously.</p><p>At this point, Esther suspected she knew what it was, but she didn't rush him. All she said was, "No matter what it is, Jimmy, you will still be welcome here."</p><p>He looked up at her in surprise. "You might not think that after you hear what I have to say."</p><p><em>We'll see</em>, Esther thought as she motioned for him to continue.</p><p>Jimmy took a deep breath then said, "I'm going on trial next Monday. For the crimes I committed as The Winter Soldier." As he spoke, he'd been looking at the tile pattern on the floor, but now his eyes quirked upward, worriedly.</p><p>Esther reached over and laid her hand on the desk, not quite touching his hand, but it was a close thing. "I've known since the first day you've walked in," she said softly. "But thank you for sharing that with me. It doesn't change how I feel about you, or the fact that you're still welcome here anytime."</p><p>Jimmy blinked up at her in surprise. "Really? You're not upset?"</p><p>She shook her head. "Not in the slightest."</p><p>His lips pursed together and he had to swallow hard before he could speak again. "Thank you," he breathed, barely louder than a whisper.</p><p>Esther patted his hand quickly before pulling back to her side of the room. "Since you're already here, the least I can do is feed you. How do you feel about branching out from pastrami?"</p><p>Jimmy still looked thrown, like he hadn't expected their conversation to go the way it had. Esther tapped the counter next to his hand then rose to her feet. "Come try our smoked turkey. I think you'll really like it."</p><p>That seemed to jar Jimmy out of his stupor. He stood and popped open the office door for her, then followed her into the deli, where the line had subsided. At the counter, when he pulled out his credit card, he suddenly asked, "Can I get two?"</p><hr/><p>"What's this?" Sean asked, staring at the paper-wrapped sandwich Bucky was holding out to him.</p><p>"It's from the deli," Bucky said, shaking it gently. "I ordered two." After a pause, he added, "It's turkey. Esther said it's excellent."</p><p>"That's very kind," Sean replied before accepting the sandwich. He put down Bucky's file, unwrapped a corner of the sandwich and took a bite, finding he couldn't argue. "Thank you. It is."</p><p>Bucky beamed. "She'll be thrilled." He unwrapped his own sandwich then said, "Also, I told her."</p><p>"Told her what?"</p><p>"Who I was. I think she already knew."</p><p>Sean put down his food and looked over at Bucky. "That's great, Bucky. And how did she react?"</p><p>"She didn't, really. But she slipped a cup of matzoh ball soup," Bucky pulled out the styrofoam container as proof, "into my bag, so I don't think she cares."</p><p>Sean jotted a note in the file then smiled warmly at Bucky. "I'm so happy you've found this person, Bucky, and that you felt comfortable telling her who you are. How did it feel, to have that out in the open?"</p><p>"Good." Bucky thought for a moment then added, "It was a relief to finally say it, and for her to almost not care."</p><p>Sean nodded. "I am so proud of you. And you should be of yourself."</p><p>"I don't know if that's the word, but I'm thankful." Bucky shifted in his seat. "For all your help. For encouraging me to get out there. For Steve, who is always there. For Tony, who lets me live with him, rent-free, even though I…" he swallowed and then made a gesture with his flesh hand, as if to say 'well, you know.' "For the team and for people like Esther and her family who aren't judging me by who I used to be."</p><p>He looked up to find Sean nodding again. "Just remember that you are the one who is making that happen. <em>You</em> got yourself back to the team, wanting a different life, and <em>you</em> are the one who is putting in the work. It's important that you're giving yourself some of this credit." Sean then glanced at his desk and when he looked back at Bucky, his expression was somber. "As much as I want to continue that today, I'd like to suggest we switch gears and focus on your upcoming trial and revisit these feelings another time. Is that okay with you?"</p><p>Not really having anything else he wanted to contribute to that conversation at the moment, Bucky took a large bite of his sandwich and nodded. "That's fine."</p><hr/><p>The trial dragged on for four long weeks, during which Esther didn't see Jimmy at all. She supposed that was because he was in court all the time instead of going to his weekly therapy appointments. She didn't want to watch the news, because she was terrified he was going to get committed, but she also couldn't stand <em>not</em> knowing what was happening in the Manhattan courtroom. So the trial played on silently on the tablet Eli had set-up behind the counter, with Esther catching glimpses of it while she worked.</p><p>The prosecution had dug up footage and records of The Soldier's missions, released during last year's Hydragate, and played them for the jury. Esther wanted to punch the smug prosecutor in the face, and had actually made it all the way to the doorway one day before Eli had pulled her back. Thankfully, Jimmy's lawyer seemed just as capable at showcasing that Jimmy hadn't been operating under his own volition, and the videos he showed to prove that point were just as painful (if not more so) to watch.</p><p>When Jimmy was declared innocent, the smile that lit across his face and the hugs he received from the rest of the Avengers were like a breath of fresh air, even at the deli miles and miles away from the courtroom. As Eli danced around in relief, hugging his friends, Esther gave everyone in the restaurant a free latke to celebrate.</p><p>The next Tuesday, Jimmy showed up at 2:10 exactly, wearing his typical jacket and baseball cap, but this time his hands were stuffed in his pockets. Esther met him halfway across the room.</p><p>"Prepare yourself for a hug," she informed him, arms held wide. He tensed slightly as she approached but let her wrap her arms around him and pull him close. "You deserve it."</p><p>His arms very slowly slipped out of his pockets and around her back, not <em>quite</em> making contact with her, but it was a close thing. "Thank you," he said as he relaxed into her grip.</p><p>"You're welcome." Then, before she pushed her luck, she pulled away. "Now, the pastrami is extra good today. I can't imagine the food at that courthouse was any good, so you'll be getting a double portion. Without argument."</p><p>"Yes, ma'am," Jimmy replied, a grin flitting across his lips.</p><hr/><p>Just like that, their routine was back, and for two more months, Jimmy showed up at the deli every Tuesday at 2:10 PM like clockwork. But then, the Costa Gravan First Family flew in town to meet with President Garcetti, and Captain America was injured by the attempted assassins. When Esther heard that on the news, she began worrying like hell about Steve, knowing he was Jimmy's friend, but mostly about Jimmy and how he was coping. She hoped he'd still show up on Tuesday, so she could check up on him, but she wasn't surprised when he didn't: Steve was still in the hospital after all.</p><p>She wished she had a way to contact Jimmy. Up until that point, she hadn't bothered to get his phone number or email, since she'd been seeing him weekly. But now, she couldn't check up on him even if she wanted to, so there was nothing to do but wait and hope he'd show back up once things began to normalize.</p><p>One week passed, and according to an official statement, Steve had been released from the hospital the previous Wednesday and would continue recuperating at Avengers Tower. This left Esther hopeful she would see Jimmy on Tuesday, as he began to return to his routine. However when 2:10... 2:15... 2:30... 3:00 came and went, Esther's worry only intensified. It reached fever pitch thirty-six hours later when she found Eli sobbing instead of bussing a table, having just seen a YouTube video of Captain America trying to assassinate President Garcetti.</p><p>At this point, Esther actually called Avengers Tower as a Hail Mary that she'd get put through, but not surprisingly, she was politely told that connecting her to the private Avengers floors was not allowed. The first thing she was going to do when Jimmy showed up again was get his phone number, for emergencies only. In the meantime, all she could do was console Eli and tell him it probably wasn't what it seemed. The Steve Rogers Frank admired and had shared stories about would never do something like this. And now that she knew Jimmy, she still believed that with all her heart.</p><p>Three days after that footage hit the internet, the deli halted normal business to watch Tony Stark give a press conference and reveal that it hadn't, in fact, been Steve Rogers who had tried to assassinate President Garcetti, but instead a lookalike named Clarke Robinson. That had set Eli into another round of tears for ever doubting one of his heroes, but some streusel à la mode was all it took to calm him down.</p><p>Esther tried again to call Avengers Tower or contact them through their online form, but she received the same brush-off from the receptionist and no response to her inquiry. Despite how much she was worried, time passed, and she slid back into her non-Jimmy routine: working the deli from 5 – 3; sometimes babysitting her grandchildren while their parents ran around to after-school activities and appointments; other times collapsing on her couch with Frank and watching movies through the NetFilms service Eli had set-up for them, and left printed instructions by the remote on how to access it.</p><p>Then, just under four weeks since Esther had last seen Jimmy, the bell on the front door of the deli rang and Esther walked out of the office to find Jimmy standing next to a tall blond man, who she easily recognized despite the sunglasses and hat. Steve Rogers didn't seem like himself at all, standing with his hands jammed into his pockets and his head tilted down slightly. She could understand why, after all he'd been put through these last two weeks, and could see, even from this distance, that this, or something if not this, was weighing heavily on him.</p><p>"Jimmy!" she called, as they entered. "You're back!" Her arms itched to hug him, to bundle him into her arms and demand the whole story, but it'd been so long since she'd seen him last and so much had happened that she needed to take it slow, so as not to overwhelm him.</p><p>She bit back a laugh as Steve took a long look around the deli, as if looking for a Jimmy, and couldn't help but grin when his gaze finally landed on his friend.</p><p>"You let her call you Jimmy?" she heard him hiss as she stepped around the counter.</p><p>Even though Steve was the one who had been through the public wringer these past two weeks, it had clearly taken its toll on Jimmy too. His face was gaunter, eyes slightly more haunted, and he seemed less at ease than he had on his last visit.</p><p>"You're losing weight," she declared, seeing how both their clothes hung in places they shouldn't. "Are they not feeding you enough in Manhattan?"</p><p>Predictably, Jimmy scowled, and for that brief second, a glimpse of normalcy was achieved. "I'm eating just fine." He hooked his thumb at Steve. "It's this one you have to worry about."</p><p>Didn't she know it. Esther waved off Steve's protest, confirmed that he was in fact too skinny as well, and began mentally assembling an order that would help both of them put back what had been lost.</p><p>When the two Avengers had left, Eli burst out of the back room where he had been rolling silverware since one of their busboys had gone home early with a cold. "WAS THAT CAPTAIN AMERICA?" he screeched, sprinting to the front window and pressing his face against it. "OMA, YOU SERVED CAPTAIN AMERICA!"</p><p>"Get away from there, Eli," she ordered by way of response. "You're smearing the glass."</p><p>"Yes, Oma." He turned away, not allowing her reprimand to dampen his mood. "Do you think he'll be back? Do you think he'd sign my shield? What did he order? Was he as awesome as he seems on TV?"</p><p>Esther walked around the counter then looked down at her grandson. "Don't tell anyone, but Captain America doesn't like pastrami."</p><p>Eli looked at her very seriously, then shook his head. "I guess no one's perfect."</p><hr/><p>"How did it feel?" Sean asked the following week. "Bringing Steve along."</p><p>"Good. <em>Right</em>, almost."</p><p>"Can you expand on that?"</p><p>"They gave me so much when I turned myself in to them; Tony obviously because it was his place, but Steve has been there for me through all the nightmares and withdrawals and me not remembering the most basic things. It felt good to give something back, to share something that was 'mine<em>'</em>," he said the word with invisible quotes, "with them."</p><p>Sean nodded as he scribbled in Bucky's file. "That is a huge step for you, and to be honest, one I wasn't thinking you'd do so early."</p><p>Bucky looked up sharply. "Should I have not?"</p><p>"On your own time, absolutely." Sean paused. "As I'm saying it out loud though, I really shouldn't have been surprised you shared the deli with Steve, after all he's been through of late." He looked up at Bucky and smiled warmly. "You did great. Though I want you to still feel comfortable telling Steve 'no', if you don't want him along. Just because he's been there now, doesn't mean he always has to come. It's okay for you to want some space on your own, just as it's okay to always bring him if you want."</p><p>Bucky considered that for a moment. "That makes sense. And I think I would be. For things like this, Steve knows when to push and when to not."</p><p>"But if he pushes and you don't want him to, you should feel able to tell him you want to go alone."</p><p>"I will, I promise."</p><p>Sean hummed absently as he jotted down some more notes. "So, how is Steve anyway?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A few days after Bucky took Steve to Esther's, Bucky walked onto the common floor to find Clint sitting on the couch in the common area, playing a game on his phone.</p><p>"Want anything from the kitchen?" he asked, not stopping in his route. The kitchen on Steve's floor was all but empty, since grocery shopping hadn't yet made his or Steve's list of priorities. If Bucky wasn't able to go today, he suspected they were going to need to cave to the modern age and have them delivered, just so they wouldn't need to keep intruding on the common floor to keep up with their metabolisms.</p><p>"Nah," Clint said, without looking up. "Thanks though."</p><p>Bucky made a humming sound in acknowledgement as he headed into the kitchen and fetched a bottle of water and one of the high-protein power bars Bruce had designed for the team.</p><p>As Bucky reentered the common room, he found Clint staring at him, no longer playing on his phone. "I heard you guys are trying new restaurants without me," he said.</p><p>"I didn't know you wanted an invite."</p><p>"Invites are too formal. A text message would suffice." Clint then rested his chin on the back of the couch expectantly. "I love trying new restaurants—and I'm <em>really</em> good at it. You know all the good stuff isn't on the regular menu, right? I excel at scoring those dishes."</p><p>He was so clearly fishing for an invitation and, from where Bucky was standing, it didn't seem like the worst idea. After all Clint had done for him, both before and during the symbiote debacle, Bucky could share this place with him too.</p><p>Plus, he had to admit he was interested to see how Esther and Clint would interact, and, now that Clint mentioned it, he was curious whether she had anything special off-menu, not that he'd branched out from his pastrami sandwich (the pre-trial turkey notwithstanding).</p><p>"Tuesday at 2? I'll send you the address."</p><p>Clint grinned. "Count on it."</p><hr/><p>"You're bringing us more business, Jimmy!" Esther called next Tuesday as Jimmy and a man who was very clearly Clint Barton walked into the deli. Since there was no line, Jimmy immediately headed up to the counter, while Clint took a long survey of the dining area.</p><p>"Is it to your approval?" Esther asked wryly, when Clint was finished.</p><p>He looked at her and nodded happily. "What's the best thing you have on the menu?" he then asked.</p><p>"Tongue," she replied without missing a beat.</p><p>If Clint thought that was strange, his expression didn't show it. "I'll have that," he said, after a second adding, "On rye please."</p><p>"Sure thing. The usual for you, Jimmy?" she asked, as she began to key in Clint's order.</p><p>He nodded. "For here, though, if that's okay."</p><p>Now, a grin matching Clint's spread across Esther's face. "Absolutely, Jimmy. You're welcome here anytime."</p><p>As the total appeared on the back of the register, Clint slipped his credit card across the counter before Jimmy could pull out his wallet. Jimmy shot Clint an unhappy look, but Clint just shook his head and slid the card closer to Esther. "You brought me here. The first one is on me."</p><p>Before Jimmy could turn his protest to Esther, she ran Clint's card and handed it back along with two clear plastic cups, which the two Avengers filled at the soda machine. They had barely sat down when Eli came racing out of the backroom, eyes wide and mouth open with excitement.</p><p>"IT'S HAWKEYE!" he shrieked, startling the rest of the deli. Esther had been so caught up in the arrival of Jimmy and Clint that she'd forgotten to alert Eli, whose absolute favorite superhero was Hawkeye himself. "OH MY GOD OMA! HAWKEYE IS HERE!"</p><p>A few patrons turned to look at him and Eli immediately shrank back against the counter. "Sorry," he said, yet not looking it the least bit.</p><p>Clint was one of the ones who looked over, and motioned for Eli to come closer. Eli looked up at Esther in both panic and a silent plea.</p><p>"Are you sure he won't be bothering you?" Esther asked Clint, who shook his head.</p><p>"Send him over."</p><p>"Be nice," Esther instructed her grandson before gently pushing him away from the counter. Clint patted the empty seat at their table and Eli slowly sat on it, eyes wide in awe.</p><p>"So you like Hawkeye?" Clint asked.</p><p>Eli nodded. "He's <em>literally</em> the best Avenger."</p><p>Clint tilted his head at Jimmy. "Even better than him?"</p><p>Eli looked slightly panicked again, but he nodded. "Sorry, Mr. Barnes."</p><p>Esther waited, as if concerned about how Jimmy would react, but he just shook his head and might have even chuckled softly—she wasn't sure about the last point since a customer chose that moment to step up to the soda fountain, thus blocking Esther's view. However, even over the soda bubbling into the cup, Esther was able to hear Jimmy respond, "Don't be sorry, kid."</p><p>As the customer returned to their table, Esther could see Clint positively beaming. "So why is Hawkeye your favorite?" he asked, leaning forward slightly so he could give Eli his full attention.</p><p>"Cos he's just a normal guy, you know? And he hangs with the rest of them." Eli proceeded to go on and on about Hawkeye, then the rest of the Avengers in turn, while the food was delivered to Clint and Jimmy and they ate. He barely stopped when Jimmy pushed his full glass of water over in front of Eli, who took a half sip, then continued his thesis about how great the Avengers were.</p><p>While all this was occurring, there was a slight pop in business, but when that was done Esther grabbed some scrap paper from the counter, scribbled, <em>Are you sure he's not bothering you? </em>on the back of it, and held it up for Jimmy and Clint to see. Eli, still yammering away, was sitting with his back to the counter and wouldn't be able to.</p><p>Jimmy smiled warmly and shook his head.</p><hr/><p>"And that didn't bother you?" Sean asked. "Not being someone's favorite?"</p><p>Bucky shook his head. "No. Should it have?"</p><p>"No. But if it had, we could have worked through it. Since it didn't, we can move on. Have you been to any other places on your own, besides the deli?"</p><p>Bucky nodded. "Food shopping, the library, and a pizza place Eli recommended."</p><p>"How was it?"</p><p>"Terrible, but don't tell him that."</p><hr/><p>After that, Clint Barton appeared in the Brooklyn deli more often than Jimmy. His visits weren't regular, like Jimmy's were, but he was easily in twice a week, if not more.</p><p>He'd come in every time, ask what was good today and eat whatever it was, crumbs and all, without complaint. He also would start helping out by bussing tables if things got busy, or putting in orders for Esther if she was in back.</p><p>The first time it happened, Esther had swatted him across the shoulder and told him to take a seat. He was a guest here, and she didn't want him working like a paid employee.</p><p>However, that didn't seem to deter him. If a situation arose, he'd be on his feet in an instant helping Sandy, the new waitress, when her tray wobbled, putting tables together for larger parties, and generally helping out where he could.</p><p>"You might just have to let him help you," Frank had told Esther, when she complained about Clint's antics.</p><p>"I most certainly will not." It wasn't that Esther minded the help; instead, it was that they were supposed to be providing a service to her customers, not the other way around.</p><p>"Well then you have to tell Hawkeye to back down, and sorry, mein Schatz, but I have my money on him."</p><p>Esther smacked Frank in the shoulder. "After all these years," she grumbled, affronted.</p><p>"It wouldn't hurt you to accept the help," Frank repeated, before reaching over and turning out the light.</p><p>Esther made up her mind to have a conversation with Clint the next day, and had practiced it multiple times while getting ready. By the end, she was pretty sure she struck the right balance of thankful, while making it clear that she wanted him to stop working like she was paying him. She was prepared to deliver her speech the next time he saw him, but when she walked out of her office later that afternoon, she found Clint rolling silverware with Eli, talking about Eli's school. Eli looked so happy in that moment, that Esther found herself unable to deliver her speech.</p><p>"Thank you," she mouthed over Eli's shoulder as she headed to the counter and began preparing for the day.</p><p>Clint just smiled, and turned his attention back to Eli.</p><hr/><p>"Are you sure you don't mind him hanging around?" Esther asked Jimmy that same week. As much as she liked having Clint at the deli, her first loyalty was always going to be to Jimmy. "I get the feeling this is sort of your place, if you know what I mean."</p><p>Jimmy shook his head. "I'm happy he's happy." And from the look on his face, Esther knew he meant it.</p><hr/><p>A few days later at closing time, Esther found Clint laying on a banquette, arm slung over his eyes.</p><p>"It's closing time, Clint," she said, hand hovering over the light switches.</p><p>He shifted his arm so he could look out at her. "I'm tired, my bike has a flat and I really don't want to go to the store tonight. Can I just sleep here?"</p><p>A variety of responses flew through Esther's brain, chiefly that the banquette couldn't be comfortable. That was followed by the fact that he absolutely could not stay here since this was a restaurant, not a hotel.</p><p>"I'll open for you," Clint continued. "I do love the smell of freshly baked bread."</p><p>Then again, if he was that desperate to stay here, Esther wasn't going to turn him away. "You'll do no such thing," she said. "But if the banquette gets too uncomfortable, there's a futon in the back."</p><p>Clint grinned, shifted, then threw his arm back over his eyes. "Trust me, Esther, I've slept on way worse."</p><hr/><p>Bucky could tell from the increasing familiarity between Esther and Clint that Clint was frequenting the deli without him, and that was fine. Like he'd told Esther and Steve, he didn't mind sharing this place with his friends.</p><p>That being said, he didn't expect to walk in one Tuesday to find Clint behind the counter, wearing a branded apron, and filling out orders as easily as could be.</p><p>Bucky stood in the short line and when he got up to the counter, asked, "Where's Esther?"</p><p>"Lying down in back. Her arthritis is acting up."</p><p>"And you were just here?"</p><p>Clint nodded. "That's okay, right?"</p><p>"Would you all stop asking me that? Yes, I'm glad you're enjoying it here. I'm just surprised you're not at your day job."</p><p>"You know the life of an agent," Clint said cryptically. "It's not all 9 - 5." Then, he very visibly shifted gears. "So what are you having today? And before you say pastrami, can I suggest Jax's," one of the chefs, "and my newest creation?"</p><p>"You have a creation?" Bucky asked incredulously as Clint pulled a handwritten sheet of paper out from behind the counter and slid it toward him.</p><p>"I told you all the best stuff is off-menu. But don't tell Esther. I have a feeling she'd flip." From that statement, Bucky was expecting something totally out of the norm, but instead, Clint's creation looked like a smoked lox and pastrami combination served on rye, with a remoulade of mustard, capers, tomatoes and red onions.</p><p>"Why would she flip?"</p><p>"It's just not the way things are done, you know. Tradition, and all that. They're two separate dishes. At least that's what Jax tells me. He didn't seem to mind as much though. Thinks it's amazing." Clint leaned forward. "So you want to try it?"</p><p>"Why not?" Bucky handed over his credit card then asked, "Is Esther up for visitors?"</p><p>Clint shrugged. "I'd assume so. Head back there and see."</p><p>Bucky made a face at Clint, then did as he was told.</p><p>"How are you doing, Esther?" he asked as he stepped into the office. "Can I get you anything?"</p><p>Esther, who was lying down on the futon that ran along the wall opposite the desk, shook her head. "I took my pills and ate some lunch." She looked up at him and smiled loosely. "Did you hear about the sandwich Clint and Jax are pushing today?"</p><p>Of course she knew. Bucky hadn't expected any less. "Yes, he talked me into ordering it."</p><p>"If Frank were here, he'd have a fit."</p><p>Esther pulled up her legs so Bucky could sit on the end of the couch. "Why exactly? It seems like a good sandwich."</p><p>"We serve very traditional foods here, the way his family and the delis he frequented growing up did. We listened when his family came, made adjustments as they saw fit, and didn't stray too far away from the norm. After they passed, we never really updated our menu because everything was selling so well. I don't know if Frank has ever thought of putting the two together, honestly, because in his mind, they are two separate sandwiches."</p><p>Bucky honestly didn't know what to say for a moment, but then, he asked, "so do you want to try it?"</p><p>Esther grinned. "Absolutely."</p><hr/><p>"You're sure you don't mind Clint being at the deli?" Sean asked, steepling his fingers in front of his face.</p><p>Bucky frowned. "You're the third person to ask me that. Should I be? It's not any different than sharing it with Steve."</p><p>Sean shook his head. "No. But it would be okay if you did. From the way you described it, this was sort of your place to get away, and now the 'get away' is there too."</p><p>"I don't mind it. Esther and her family are amazing and they deserve all the business."</p><p>"That's not what I meant."</p><p>"It's nice," Bucky said slowly. "Having everyone else really like something I've introduced them too. It feels like I'm slowly starting to repay everyone for everything they did for me."</p><p>"You know that in a true friendship there's nothing to repay, right? Your friends aren't expecting any sort of grand gesture in return for their help."</p><p>"I know. But it feels <em>right</em> to show them how thankful I am for everything they've done. And since I don't own a massive property I could let them stay at, or worry nearly as much as Steve, I can share with them the things that make me happy."</p><p>Sean nodded, made a few notes, then replied, "As long as that is the logic, I think that is a wonderful idea."</p><hr/><p>Esther knew something wasn't quite right the moment a black-haired woman with a stylish bob entered the deli. Her gaze, even though it was hidden behind Audrey Hepburn-esque shades, was exacting as she panned the dining area.</p><p>It was possible she was a critic of some sort, or an online food blogger. The deli had seen so many of those recently, all wanting free food in exchange for "publicity". Esther had offered them 10% off that day, then another 5% off on a return visit for each batch of ten followers the influencer got to visit the restaurant. To no one's surprise, not a single influencer had returned.</p><p>"Can I help you?" Esther asked, all smiles.</p><p>The woman returned the smile as she lowered her purse to the counter. "Matzoh ball soup please. And a latke on the side."</p><p>"Of course," Esther said as she keyed the order into the register. "Anything to drink?"</p><p>"Bottled water, please."</p><p>Esther nodded and reported the total. "I haven't seen you around here before," she said conversationally as the woman handed over a $20 and Esther began counting out her change.</p><p>"I'm new in the area," the woman replied. Her tone signaled that was the end of that conversation.</p><p>Esther's smile just widened, as she motioned to where the woman could wait for her order, before she began helping another customer.</p><hr/><p>"It's not bad."</p><p>Bucky, who had been paging through a tablet in the common area of the Tower, started slightly at the interruption. He scowled over his shoulder at Natasha and rested the tablet on the couch beside him.</p><p>"What's not?"</p><p>"Your deli." Natasha effortlessly hopped over the back of the couch to land lithely on Bucky's other side. "I went yesterday."</p><p>"What did you get?"</p><p>"Matzoh ball soup and a latke." She smiled warmly as she added, "I wanted to try the most traditional for my first time, before I branch out into all the crazy dishes Clint is trying to get Esther to serve."</p><p>While Clint was respectful enough of the tradition of the deli to not be pushing too terribly hard for his creations to have a permanent place on the menu, Bucky had seen more than one scrap of paper with a recipe scribbled on it, in Clint's signature, practically unreadable, scrawl, on the desk in Esther's office.</p><p>"Would you go back?" Bucky asked.</p><p>Natasha nodded, then reached out and took Bucky's hand. "Thank you for sharing it with me."</p><p>Bucky smiled and tightened his hold slightly. "I'm glad you're all liking it."</p><p>The conversation lapsed for a moment, then Natasha spoke up again. "If you wanted to branch out from sandwiches, I've been wanting to try this new Russian bistro in Brighton Beach."</p><p>It took Bucky a beat to realize that she was asking if he wanted to join her. He opened his mouth to respond, but found himself unable to say any words while his brain furiously processed both the dinner and all possible outcomes. He recognized that Natasha was trying to pay back a perceived debt, but while he wanted to branch out and try an assortment of ethnic foods, he wasn't the keenest about going back to Russian, for the memories it might bring back.</p><p>Natasha must have seen his hesitation for she said, "Or we could try somewhere else. There's a Thai place down the street I haven't had a chance to eat at either."</p><p>As good as Thai food was, Bucky found himself wanting to eat at the bistro mostly to show that he could. If he got too uncomfortable, he could always pay the bill and leave; Natasha would understand.</p><p>He could do this.</p><p>"The bistro would be nice," he finally replied.</p><p>Natasha's smile lit up the room. "When are you free?"</p><p>"Friday?"</p><p>He hadn't thought it was possible, but somehow her smile increased in size as she said, "It's a date."</p><p>It was only after she'd left the common area and Bucky had turned back to his tablet that Natasha's words really sunk into his brain.</p><p>Had she meant a date in the literal sense, or a date like, well, a romantic event?</p><p>Since his frame of reference for all this no longer existed, he sought out Steve, who, in hindsight, given his dating history, may not have been the right choice. But it was too late for that now. Bucky had already knocked on Steve's door and heard footsteps approaching.</p><p>"Hey, Buck!" Steve said with a grin as he opened the door. "What's—"</p><p>"I don't know if I agreed to go on a date with Natasha," Bucky interrupted, before he could change his mind.</p><p>Steve quirked an eyebrow, but stepped out of the doorway and motioned for Bucky to come in. "Start at the beginning."</p><hr/><p>"How did it go?" Sean asked the next Tuesday.</p><p>"Good. The food was great, it didn't trigger anything, and I really enjoyed spending time with Natasha."</p><p>"Was it a date?"</p><p>"She was open to the idea, but I told her I wasn't ready yet."</p><p>"And she still went with you." It was a statement, not a question.</p><p>Bucky nodded.</p><p>"I'm really proud of you," Sean said, making direct eye contact. "First, you acknowledged that you weren't ready. Second, you put your heart on the line a little bit and told the truth about how you were feeling. You didn't know where she was going to stand, but you did it anyway."</p><p>"She's not like that," Bucky felt the need to say.</p><p>"I know. From what you've told me about her, she doesn't seem like the type to push you past what you're ready for. But you're ignoring your growth here, as you continue to deny it."</p><p>"Growth, huh?"</p><p>Sean nodded as he made some notes in Bucky's file. "Now, I'd like to talk about what you said earlier about being triggered. Was that a concern of yours?"</p><p>Bucky nodded, collected his thoughts, then opened his mouth to explain.</p><hr/><p>A few months later, Esther paced the deli, a copy of the local paper gripped tightly in her hands. There was a new Jewish restaurant (not even a deli, a sit-down establishment, and to make it worse, a <em>chain</em>) opening a few blocks over and naturally, she was worried they were going to steal some of her business. They were doing well enough here. The deli was profiting every month, but they weren't ahead enough that they could take a major cut in customers. Most of their customers were loyal regulars, but they also did a fair bit of walk-by traffic. Those were the margins she was worried about losing.</p><p>"Don't worry about it," their regulars had said. "What you have here can't be beat."</p><p>But Esther was worried. It wasn't Clint's fault, but his hybrid sandwich had brought about some concerns that maybe they were too traditional here, and weren't keeping up with the times. Maybe they'd bring in more business with a spin on the classics, instead of serving the classics as Frank had had them years ago. It was those fears that had already been festering that made the opening of the new restaurant that much worse.</p><p>"We've weathered worse than this," Frank had said, one night the previous week. But it hadn't been enough to convince Esther, who had spent every night of the last week tossing and turning.</p><p>Tomorrow was the competition's big opening, and they had banners and advertisements, and according to Eli, a social media presence. The Aarons' deli had none of that.</p><p>Which left Esther pacing nervously behind the counter all of Sunday, willing the day to pass so they could get to tomorrow. If they survived the opening and profited, it was a good sign they'd survive the competition being so close.</p><p>If not… Esther wouldn't allow herself to think about that. "Get me a rag," she ordered Eli. "I'm going to clean the front windows."</p><p>The next morning, business at the deli continued as usual. They opened at 5:30 AM for the morning crowd and closed as usual at 3. The other restaurant was having its opening at 11, and would stay open until 8. Esther already had planned to take her break at 11 and leave Ronin, her eldest grandson, at the counter, in order to travel down to the restaurant and sample their goods herself. But, as the morning crowd faded to the lunch bunchers, business picked up, orders were called in, and before Esther knew it, it was 11:30.</p><p>"I need to go," she announced, pulling off her apron and straightening out her hair. "Ronin, you're on the counter."</p><p>"Yes, Oma."</p><p>"I'll be back soon," she said to the line, smiling as warmly as she could as she passed. She was so caught up in her mission that she almost ran into a guest coming through the door.</p><p>"I'm so sorry," she muttered as she tried to slide past them. "Excuse me, please."</p><p>"Esther, wait."</p><p>She looked up as she recognized that voice. It was Jimmy, dressed as usual in long sleeves and gloves despite the warm spring day.</p><p>It's not Tuesday," was all her brain could stutter out.</p><p>"I know." Jimmy jingled the bag he was holding. "I heard you had some competition. I scoped them out for you."</p><p>Esther didn't care one hoot that they were standing in the middle of the entrance, door still propped open and letting out the air conditioning. "And?" she demanded.</p><p>"I brought you some pastrami and potato salad to try."</p><p>"I love you, Jimmy." She grabbed the bag and hustled back into the restaurant, past all her guests, and into the office. "Come on, Jimmy! Keep up!" she called when she didn't hear him follow.</p><p>In the office, she pushed the keyboard back and pulled a sandwich and styrofoam tub out of the bag. She sniffed at them and put them down on the desk.</p><p>"What's the verdict?" Jimmy asked as he sat beside her.</p><p>"Undetermined." Esther unwrapped the paper around the sandwich and held it up, examining it critically. "Less filling than ours." She poked at the middle of the bread, which immediately sprung back. "Bread is a good texture." She broke off a corner and nibbled on it. "Bread is good," she reported sourly.</p><p>"Try the pastrami."</p><p>Esther tore off a corner and chewed it thoughtfully. "It's dry."</p><p>"I agree," Jimmy said with a nod. "On that alone, you have no competition."</p><p>"You ate there?"</p><p>Jimmy nodded again. "Was in line first thing this morning."</p><p>If there was one thing Esther knew about Jimmy, he hated lines. So for him to wait in one for her, for them… Tears came to her eyes as she realized the implication of his words.</p><p>"Thank you," she said, putting down the sandwich and taking Jimmy's hands in hers. She released him quickly though, seeing that that was making him uncomfortable.</p><p>"Now, tell me everything about that place."</p><hr/><p>The restaurant did take some of the deli's business, but it was small enough of a cut that the deli was still surviving. So the days went on, and their lives returned to a semblance of normal. Until one day, none other than Tony Stark walked into the deli. It was right before closing so it was just Eli, Esther and Caleb cleaning up.</p><p>He stopped in the doorway, pulled off his shades dramatically, and took a slow look around the room. He had yet to speak, but was tilting his head and silently moving his lips, as if making mental notes of things.</p><p>Esther's heart immediately sank. Tony Stark being here could only mean one thing: he wanted to buy out their space for one of his new StarkTech cafes that had popped up around the city (because he'd taken issue with how a certain other computer genius had set up his stores and was out to, well, outdo him).</p><p>"Can I help you?" she asked, fighting to throw a smile on her face.</p><p>Stark walked up to the counter and leaned his elbows on it. "Have you considered social media marketing? I think the place is great. Set-up is a little funky, but we can work on that. Sign outside needs to be repainted. It's so faded I can't read the name. Not making it easy for people to find this place. You could do with some pop-up boards out in front, with the daily specials. Maybe an overhead sign in here in chalk for some character."</p><p>The words were flying by Esther so fast it took her until right then to catch up.</p><p>"So you're not buying us out?"</p><p>Stark quirked an eyebrow at her. "After all I've heard about this place from Buckeroo and Steve? No way. Am I a little hurt they didn't specifically invite me? Maybe. But they did have their conversation about you being worried about staying afloat in a public place, so that was as fair an invite as any, I guess." He smiled toothily at her. "Now, are we married to the paint color, or would you be okay with an uplift?"</p><p>"Mr. Stark, that's very kind of you, but we can't afford—"</p><p>"How much do you need?"</p><p>Esther stared at him. "I don't understand."</p><p>"To renovate this place. Just a little, of course. Bring it up to date without losing any of its charm."</p><p>"I don't—"</p><p>"Right, depends on the design decisions we go with. Fair enough." He took another pan of the room, then turned to face Esther. "So how about it?"</p><p>"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I still don't think I understand."</p><p>If he was offended, he didn't look it. "You want to bring your restaurant into the digital age," he began slowly. "To attract the youngsters. I can help you with that."</p><p>"But why?"</p><p>"Today, because I'm avoiding my budget meeting. But in general, because your place seems like the kind of place we want to survive." He looked her in the eye. "Am I wrong?"</p><p>"Mr. Stark, that's very kind, but we can't accept."</p><p>"Let's call it a loan then. Through SI Outreach so it's on the up and up. 2% interest rate sound good? Ten years? All it will cost you is free sandwiches for life. For me, of course. Buckeroo can pay his own way. I've seen what he's earning in back pay. He can afford it."</p><p>Eli stepped closer to his grandmother, his eyes wide in awe, but he very seriously said, "We'll need to run it by my grandfather. Can we get the proposal in writing?"</p><p>Esther wasn't sure where he'd heard those words, but her grandson wasn't wrong.</p><p>Stark just smiled. "You have an email address? I'll have my director of outreach send it over later today."</p><p>Finally getting her brain in gear, Esther nodded and scribbled down the email Eli had helped them set-up when doing their website years ago. She held it out to Tony, who stared at it uncomfortably, so she dropped it to the counter and slid it across to him instead.</p><p>"Rocketmail?" Tony looked at Eli in faux disappointment. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping them up to date?"</p><p>"It took me all summer to get them to actually use it," Eli countered. "If you want to come teach them gmail, fine, but I'm sure not gonna."</p><p>Stark looked back up at Esther and grinned. "He's a good one, that one." He tapped the business card against the counter, then spun on his heel and walked away. "We'll be in touch."</p><p>When he was out the door and out of sight, Eli turned to his grandmother, eyes as wide as saucers. She winced preemptively, waiting for a screech, but his mouth just worked furiously, unable to make the words happen.</p><p>Before he could vocalize that it had been the <em>actual</em> Tony Stark in their restaurant, Esther cut in. "I think we deserve ice cream after all that. What do you think?"</p><p>Eli nodded wordlessly, and after Esther got Caleb to close up, allowed himself to be led out of the store.</p><hr/><p>A proposal arrived in their email the next morning. Instead of trying to read the small print on screen, she'd forwarded it to a lawyer friend, then printed out a copy for herself. The proposal as a whole seemed like a surprisingly good deal, but she wanted to make sure via her friend, or a lawyer if they needed to hire one for themselves for this, that it was airtight.</p><p>With as busy as the deli was, Esther could only read the proposal between guests, and she was only about halfway through it when the bell on the door dinged and none other than Steve Rogers walked in. He was alone and dressed casually, but had sacrificed his trademark sunglasses that he apparently thought hid his identity so well. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, and his head hunched slightly as he walked up to the counter.</p><p>"Hi Esther," he said sheepishly. "Sorry it's taken me so long to get back here."</p><p>Esther walked very slowly around the counter, eyeing Steve from head to toe. He looked healthier than the last time she'd seen him. His face was less gaunt, less tense, though there was still a shadow in his eyes that she suspected wasn't going to go away for a long time.</p><p>"You look much better," she declared, gently clasping his arms and feeling how they pushed against the fabric of his jacket. "Not quite so skinny. But the most important question is, are you feeling better?"</p><p>"I am."</p><p>"Good." She leaned forward and hugged him. "We've missed you here, Steve. Try to not be such a stranger in the future."</p><p>Steve reached his arms around Esther and, unlike Jimmy, returned the hug. "I won't. I promise."</p><p>After a long moment, Esther pulled away. "So are you here to eat? We have some fresh corned beef coming out of the oven."</p><p>Steve nodded and pulled out his wallet. "I'd like that. Very much."</p><p>As Esther punched in his order, Steve said, "I hear Tony was by."</p><p>"He was. Wrote us out a proposal for a loan to update the place a little."</p><p>Steve nodded absently as he slid his credit card back in his wallet. "He mentioned it."</p><p>Esther put her hands on her hips and frowned over the counter at Steve. "Is that why you're here? Not just to let us know you're alive, but to talk business?"</p><p>Steve quickly shook his head. "It's the first real free time I've had since being reinstated. Buck keeps telling me you ask about me, so I wanted to stop by and thank you, both for that day and for everything you've done for Bucky. And now it seems, the rest of the team too."</p><p>"You don't have to thank me for being a good human being, Steve. In fact, I'd rather you didn't." She took a seat behind the counter and, since there was no one in line, motioned for Steve to pull up a chair. "Jimmy needed somewhere where he could belong, and we're thrilled he picked here."</p><p>"We are too, Esther," Steve said as he dragged a chair over and sat down.</p><p>"Now, about this Tony business," Esther paused to collect her thoughts, then said carefully, "it's a lot to take in. The man he recommended has a lot of ideas."</p><p>Steve nodded. "As well-intentioned as Tony is, he can come on a little strong. Don't feel obligated to do everything he suggests. For what it's worth though, I think his ideas would really benefit you, and bring in more business."</p><p>"You do, huh?"</p><p>He nodded. "But that's all we have to say about it. How have you and your family been?"</p><p>They chatted amiably about her family, his recovery, and his reinstatement, until his meal was ready. After delegating counter responsibilities, Esther followed him to a free table and continued their conversation while Steve ate.</p><p>"I wouldn't change anything about the food," Steve said when he was done. "That's one helluva corned beef sandwich."</p><p>"I thought we weren't talking about the renovation anymore," replied Esther with a grin.</p><p>"I just had to add that," Steve said as he switched to the potato salad. When he was finished with that, he pulled his plates close to him before Esther could start to bus them.</p><p>"I know I said it before, but I really can't thank you enough," he then said. "For everything."</p><p>Esther just smiled at him and stole back his plate. "After all you all have been through," she said, "it's the least I can do."</p><hr/><p>It had taken some doing for Esther to convince Frank to renovate the restaurant, but in the end, he capitulated. Apparently he was just as worried as she was that they were going to get left behind by the trendy restaurants popping up around them. They'd hired a lawyer to review the papers, and when she declared everything was in order, they'd signed wholeheartedly.</p><p>When the time had come for the deli to be emptied for the renovation, the Avengers (sans Bruce, who had been invited to speak at a conference in LA, but including one Sam Wilson, who Eli immediately recognized as the Falcon, who apparently was still living and working down in DC but had come back to the Tower for a visit) had all shown up, ready to work. The publicity they'd gained from that alone, especially when Clint and Steve shucked off their shirts in the hot summer day—"only for you, Esther," Steve had grumbled, after Natasha had commented about the press it would bring. Clint had done it far more willingly and before any benefit to the deli was vocalized—had kept their website and new to-go ordering system at capacity for the first few months post-renovation.</p><p>On that day though, Frank, who wanted to contribute against the wishes of Esther and his doctor, showed up to work, ready to do his part. Never one to back down from a challenge, he had done his best to lug the heavy wood tables out of the restaurant on his own. Esther was about to ream him out for it, when Clint stepped in.</p><p>"I don't need your help!" Frank had seethed, though he was sweating profusely and could barely grip the sides of the table with his age-bent fingers.</p><p>"I'm not trying to help you," Clint said as he lifted the other side of the table and grunted as he did so. "Pulled my back on my last mission. I'm not supposed to lift heavy yet. You don't mind helping <em>me </em>out, do you?"</p><p>It was a little bit too thick to be believable, and Esther thought Frank was going to lay into Clint for one, lying to him and two, thinking he was incapable of doing such a simple thing as moving a table, but then the harsh set to his eyes softened, as he apparently realized he did indeed need the help, and he shook his head. "Sure thing. We help each other out here at Aarons."</p><p>With that, the two lugged the table into the storage unit that had been erected in the alley.</p><p>At the end of the day, when the restaurant had been totally emptied and the staff cleared out, Esther found herself unable to lock up and head out to the food that was being served outside to thank everyone for their work. The last time the restaurant had been this empty was sixty years ago when they'd bought it. As happy as she was to move forward, she was overcome with memories of her children and grandchildren doing homework on that banquette in the corner, of her regulars sitting at their usual seats on their usual day, the Saturday morning coffee drinkers and Scrabble players who gathered off to the side to not disrupt the rest of business while they played. The space was going to be wonderfully different after the renovation, but sadly not the same.</p><p>She felt a hand on her back and startled out of her daze. Frank was standing beside her, rubbing a path up and down her spine. Words were unnecessary as the two of them took in the empty room, knowing the other was feeling the same way.</p><p>"Did you finally get a chance to meet Steve?" Esther asked on their way home that night.</p><p>Frank just nodded, wearing the joyous expression of someone who finally got to meet their hero. It was so similar to Eli that Esther's heart seemed to grow yet another size.</p><p>She reached out and took his hand. "I'm glad."</p><hr/><p>Two months later, the deli had been totally redesigned. With the loan from StarkIndustries Outreach and the middle-aged interior designer they suggested, the place was modern and fresh, yet held on to the charm the Aarons had worked so hard to impart. Even though Frank had been initially resistant to the idea, even he couldn't argue with the results as their business continued to pour in. Of course, all the new guests made it harder for the Avengers and their teammates to come in for food, so Esther had set-up a table in back for them, with access from the alley, so they didn't have to be mobbed.</p><p>Surprisingly, it was Tony Stark who was the first one to take advantage of this table. Up until that point it had been a normal business day with Esther working the counter, but then, she felt a tug on her sleeve. She turned around to find Eli, who she now had to look up at to see his face, grinning widely. He leaned down and whispered, "Mr. Stark is here."</p><p>Esther patted her grandson on the cheek, and grinned as he pulled away, embarrassed. "Mind the counter, please. I'll be back as soon as I can."</p><p>"Mr. Stark," she said, once she was in the backroom. It wasn't very glamorous, filled with pantry items stacked neatly on the shelves and a long counter for food prep and silverware rolling on the other, but it was the only space they'd had free for the Avengers table. "What brings you to Brooklyn today?"</p><p>Stark put down the menu and looked up at her. "You know, Esther, I never did get to try your food."</p><p>Esther frowned. "That can't be right." Yet, as she ran back through her memories, she realized it absolutely was; even when they'd emptied the restaurant, they'd had dinner catered by a family friend to support their business and reduce stress on the staff who, as predicted, were exhausted by the end of the day. But then that got her thinking: if he'd never tasted their food, how could he possibly consider their deli worthy of his uplift efforts?</p><p>Her mouth opened to ask that very question, when she realized she probably already knew the answer. And even if that turned out not to be the reason, it wouldn't change how grateful she and Frank were for Stark's help in making the renovation/modernization happen. The only thing she could do now was try to prove that he hadn't made a mistake investing in their vision.</p><p>"This is not acceptable," she finally replied, looking back up at him. "So what can I get started for you?"</p><p>"I'll have the best lox you can find. On an everything bagel."</p><p>"Of course. And for a side?"</p><p>Stark glanced down at the menu. "Potato salad."</p><p>Esther nodded as she jotted down the order then reached around the corner to stick it into the pass and call it out to the kitchen. "Prepare yourself, Mr. Stark."</p><p>"Tony, please."</p><p>She tipped her head in acknowledgement. "Prepare yourself, Tony, for the best lox you've ever had."</p><p>He unrolled the silverware, slid the napkin into his lap, then looked up at her with a wide smile on his face. "I can honestly say I can't wait."</p><hr/><p>
  <em>Epilogue</em>
</p><p>In contrast to the out-the-door business of the past week, today the deli was empty, thanks to the robots that were swarming the Brooklyn Bridge. Iron Man had flown down the street a few hours ago ordering everyone to stay indoors. Some had listened, some hadn't, but Esther had closed up the restaurant anyway to deter anyone from putting themselves in harm's way. Since she and the staff couldn't leave the premises, they sat around the counter watching the battle on the corner television.</p><p>By the end of the day, the robots had been disabled, all the Avengers alive and relatively uninjured, and Damage Control on the scene. It was too late for the deli to reopen, so Esther sent everyone home, then began the final steps of closing up. She was just going to lock the front door when she saw a shirtless man stumbling down the street, exuding confusion from every pore.</p><p>"Sir," she asked as she stepped outside. "Can I help you?"</p><p>He looked over at her, but his brown eyes didn't quite focus. As he came a little closer, it was apparent who he was.</p><p>"Dr. Banner," she said, holding out her hand. "Do you need help?"</p><p>He shook his head uneasily and continued shuffling forward.</p><p>As he passed, she gently caught his arm and directed him into the deli. "I think you do. How does a nice glass of water and a sandwich sound?"</p><p>"Sandwich," he repeated somewhat dazedly.</p><p>With some effort, Esther got him situated in a booth, head leaning against the window, and poured him a large glass of water, leaving the pitcher at the table with him. She then pulled her StarkPhone from her purse and pressed the number 7 of her speed dial.</p><p>"Mr. Stark?" she said as she headed into the kitchen to prepare a sandwich. Actually, probably more than one sandwich if the Avengers were about to descend on her deli. "I found Dr. Banner. He's fine, just a little disoriented. He's drinking water and I'm making him some food."</p><p>"Great, that's great, thanks," Tony said somewhat distractedly. Then, "wait, you found Bruce?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"We need about another twenty minutes here. Is it okay if he stays by you until then?"</p><p>"Absolutely."</p><p>There was a loud crackling sound, which caused Esther to pull the phone away from her ear. When she slid it back, she heard Tony saying, "—suppose I could pay you to feed the rest of us while we're there. Buckeroo and Steve are looking a little hungry."</p><p>"Pay, no. But we'll have the food ready whenever you get here." With that, Esther ended the call and walked over to the walk-in.</p><p>As she approached, mind preoccupied with the menu she was going to prepare, the door to the walk-in popped open, causing Esther to jump slightly. As her heart raced, she was able to recognize that it was just Ernesto, their head chef.</p><p>"What <em>are </em>you still doing here?" she demanded.</p><p>"I was inventorying the walk-in," he said, holding up a clipboard. "But now that I've heard you're feeding the Avengers, I think I better stay."</p><p>"I would appreciate that."</p><p>Ernesto nodded. "You go sit with Dr. Banner. I'll get things started back here."</p><p>Esther placed her hand on his arm. "We don't deserve you."</p><p>He shook his head. "You deserve this, and more."</p><p>Her throat clogged unexpectantly, and all she could do was nod and make her way back out to the dining area where Bruce was struggling to hold the glass of water in shaking hands. Esther pulled a handful of straws out of the drink station, unwrapped one, and stuck it in Bruce's drink as she sat across from him.</p><p>"So, Dr. Banner, how was your day?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And so that's the end of <i>Tuesdays at Esther's</i>! Thank you for everyone who read, commented, favorited or bookmarked.</p><p>A few notes: First, re: Clint and Esther's conversation about the lox and pastrami, I paraphrased that conversation from <i>The Chef Show</i> and Jon and Roy's visit to Wexler's deli. If it's inaccurate in any way, I must have misunderstood the conversation from the show.</p><p>Second, for the record, I am sorry Sam didn't get a (bigger) part in this story. He is definitely considered an Avenger at this point in the AU, but his meeting with Esther wasn't different enough to not feel repetitive to the reader. For anyone who is concerned, he visits Esther many times (both on his own and with the team) and they will absolutely bond over their concern for their shared acquaintances (not quite to the level of Esther and Clint, but a close thing).</p><p>I hope you're all staying safe and well in all the craziness! I'd love to know what you thought of the Esther fic on your way out!</p><p>usa123</p><p>(Find me on Tumblr: usaOneTwoThree!)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's mostly Bucky and Esther in this chapter, with a small cameo from Steve as we incorporated the events of <i>The Imposter</i>, but in the next (and final) chapter, we will see Esther meet the rest of the team. And yes, Esther will get another interaction with Steve once he's fully recovered.</p><p>Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you thought!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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